If Our Profilers Worked in a Middle School
by editor frog
Summary: Drabble collection focusing on the types of jobs each member of the team would have if they worked in a middle school.
1. Lunchtime

**I've had this thought for a while now--what kinds of job would our crack team of profilers have if they had to work in a middle school?**

**Usual disclaimers. See if you can guess each character's 'new job'!  


* * *

**

The smell of stale grease and potatoes lingered heavily around Emily's nose. The scent of overcooked meat and layers of mayonnaise was beginning to bother her too. Behind her nearly four hundred adolescents chattered on happily, occasionally shrieking at some random action or tossing the odd tater tot or two.

_The only thing that really sucks is that I'm gonna have to clean up after this,_ the brunette woman thought as she saw the children being shooed out of the lunchroom and the next batch about to trickle in.


	2. Monitoring

**Usual disclaimers.

* * *

**

Up. Down. Left, right, back, forth. Up, down, around and over, and back upstairs again.

"Anyone in there?" Morgan called out, careful only to stick his head in enough to see if there were shoes underneath the doors. Satisfied that no one was skipping class in the bathroom, he scratched his initials on the time check sheet in the staff bathroom and moved on.

_I'm telling you, I'm getting a better workout now than I was before,_ the agent thought as he made his way downstairs again to cover the lunchroom. _Who needs a home gym after a day like this?_


	3. Paperwork

**Usual disclaimers.

* * *

**

"I need a long form."

"Down here again, huh?" Rossi asked, not really surprised considering the source. "Which class?"

"English. The sub started giving me a hard time." The young man took the form out of Rossi's hand and heaved himself into a solitary desk, picking up a pen to fill it out. Rossi knew instantly by the body language that the kid had no intention of getting his act together—he just wanted to play the system so he could get back to class.

_This kid's here every day almost,_ the older man realized. _Seriously makes me wonder about the situation he's coming from…_


	4. Assistance

**Usual disclaimers. (Have you left reviews with each chapter?)  


* * *

**

"Hey, Spencer."

"Hey, Jason," Reid said, hanging up his long overcoat on the rack. "What's the plan for today?"

"I think we're taking notes in English," the younger man replied, his good hand firmly gripping the joystick on his electric wheelchair.

Reid grabbed a pencil and a legal tablet. "Science?"

"Lab work. We're dissecting an earthworm today. Jess said she'd do the cutting, so…"

"Okay." The two headed down to the elevator, where Reid stuck in the special key to call the lift. "You know you have computers today…"

"I know," Jason sighed. "Why can't the screen type when I talk to it, like it does at home?"

"Because you know every kid in class would want to do it that way too," Reid said simply. "Besides, the manual typing is good for your hand there."

"Yeah, okay." The younger man heaved another huge sigh before adding, "At least there's nachos for lunch."

Reid smiled. "There's always that."


	5. Operational Administration

**Usual disclaimers.

* * *

**

"Good morning, Central Middle School," Garcia chirped into the phone, dutifully taking the caller's name and number. "Just a second." She then pushed a call button on a rather sizable two-way radio that was permanently connected to her ear. "Um, there's a Mr. Porter on the phone for you, Hotch," she said. "Something about his son being unfairly suspended…"

"_I'll have to get back with him, Penelope," _a tinny voice called back over the radio. _"I've got a situation with a group of girls…"_

"Serious?"

"_They were passing pills around of some kind. Could you tell people I'm unavailable for a while until this gets sorted out?"_

"Certainly. You need me to…?"

"_Not yet. I want to get to the bottom of this first."_

"Okay." Garcia then spoke into the phone again. "I'm sorry, Mr. Porter, but he's currently unavailable…yes, I can schedule you an appointment…"

Once the irate man hung up, Garcia went back to checking records. _I don't envy Hotch at all, having to deal with that,_ she thought. Then she started humming a little tune to herself, ending with 'somebody's going to emergency, somebody's going to jail…"


	6. In the Trenches

**Usual disclaimers. (Have you figured out all the jobs?) :)

* * *

**

"All right, ladies, two lines!" JJ shouted across the floor of the gymnasium, holding a soccer ball firmly in her hands. Her long blonde ponytail swished as she walked, making sure that her students were ready to practice the inside kick she'd just went over with them. Satisfied, she tossed the ball into the center of the room, and the floor exploded with the sounds of running feet and the solid _thunk_ of the ball being kicked. Several happy shrieks and moans of disgust sounded as JJ's attention turned to a lone young girl sitting over on the side fo the wide space.

"Alice, you know why you're here, right?" she asked, sitting down next to the girl in question.

"I told you, I forgot my shoes. Not my fault I woke up late."

"You need to start setting an alarm," JJ replied. "You don't seem to understand that you're late all the time. That takes away from me teaching and you learning."

"I hate gym," Alice spat. "I'm no good at it, and all anyone does is tease me."

"Alice."

"What?" the girl shrieked, her voice mingling with eh sounds of the soccer game going on before her.

"Am I going to have a problem with you today?"

The girl scowled.

"Fine." JJ walked over and handed Alice a green pass, then spoke on the two way radio. "Dave, Alice Mitchell is coming for a visit."

"_Okay. Late again?"_

"Won't dress. And yeah, late again." JJ watched as the unhappy student stormed off in the direction of the detention room. "One of these days I wish she'd just join in, you know?"

"_I wish for those days a lot. Would make my job easier, you know." _

The sound of chuckles filled the airwaves for a couple of minutes, and then JJ pulled out her whistle. "All right, line it up!" she called out, ready to begin the next part of her lesson.


End file.
